one of these tunnels upon a broad prairie-like plain, where
flocks of goats, sheep, and horned cattle, tended by herdsmen, were
struggling to get a scanty subsistence from very unpromising fields. Not
infrequently there came into view a pretty white hamlet of a score of
dwellings, dominated by a rude castellated structure, and a
square-towered church surmounted by a cross. Here and there were
crumbling strongholds, monuments of the days when the Moors held sway
over the land.

At last we reached Cordova, where it seemed that something untoward
must surely happen, as we were driven through the narrow, deserted,
cobble-stoned streets in a hotel omnibus, the hubs of the wheels
scraping the stone buildings on either side alternately. Nobody but
Moors would have constructed such lanes and called them streets, though
doubtless they aimed to exclude the intense heat of the sun's rays. The
neatly white-washed houses, like those in Havana, have the lower windows
all barred with iron, as if they were so many prisons, and fitted to
keep people in or out, as the occupants might desire. Looking about us
curiously it was natural to recall the slumber of Rip Van Winkle, and to
wonder seriously if the place was destined ever to wake up. How any
shops afford their proprietors a subsistence here is a marvel. The few
to be seen had but one shutter down, the rest being rusty with disuse.
There were a plenty of broad-brimmed hats with priests under them, a
sure crop in Spain, but scarcely a citizen was to be seen, or aught else
to be noticed, except a few rusty towers and antique fountains.
Everything seemed impregnated with decay, more desolate than an actual
ruin, because of its moth-eaten vitality, which left nothing to hope
for. Plainly the only life in Cordova is that imported by curious
travelers from abroad, who make pilgrimages hither to see its few
historic monuments, and to behold a Herculaneum above ground.

We looked about us for specimens of the famous breed of Cordova horses,
of whom poets have sung and kings were covetous. There were a few
animals to be seen with fine manes and tails, with arching necks and
lustrous coats, but their forms would not compare with some neglected
creatures whose blood showed through dirt and hard usage, at the Slave
Market in Tangier. There may have been noble ancestors to these Cordova
animals a thousand years ago, but they must have been crossed with
mongrel races too many times to show good t